By Sarah Orne Jewett
I heard the city bells at morning ring,
The eastern sky was faintly tinged with light;
The tired town in heavy sleep lay still,
And yet I knew it was no longer night.
One, two, three, four, the bells struck one by one,
In answering steeples that were far away;
Who could help wondering what the morn might bring,
Who waked, like me, between the dark and day?
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you include links in your comment the whole comment will likely be deleted as spam. You have been warned! Otherwise, dialoguing with these poems is encouraged.